


Dirty Little Secrets

by VidalsQueen



Series: The Moments Between [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Dirty Thoughts, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Masturbation, NSFW, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Prostitution, Sex, Unrequited Love, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-18 06:20:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12382644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VidalsQueen/pseuds/VidalsQueen
Summary: Hawke has fallen for Anders. She knows she shouldn't but when she looks at him, all she sees is a Mage working to help others. For almost a year, she's flirted with him, sought his company, and for what? He's turned her down at every encounter.This work is a fill-in-the-blanks for the Deep Roads expedition.





	1. Hawke's Dirty Little Secret

**Author's Note:**

> This scene came to me after walking into The Blooming Rose, I heard Anders say, "If someone tries to purchase me again, I'm leaving." Hawke's unrequited love finds an outlet.

Ahh, The Blooming Rose. Kirkwall’s finest whorehouse. The aroma of sex and ale permeate the air. It is sad that this is the one place in Kirkwall I feel I can be myself. I don’t have to pretend. There is no front, or show I am tied to. No one cares that I do not take the mage/templar fight as seriously as everyone else. No one cares that I may just want to have a little fun. No one will judge me if I want to throw two fingers in the air and scream, “Fuck you all!” Of course, everyone here is lying to you, in one way or another, but I can handle the charade for a night of comfort.

I crave time away from the chaos that plagues this city.

“Hawke,” I turn to my left to find my old buddy Meeran, leader of the Red Iron and my former Mercenary captain, strutting toward me. 

I miss my days as a mercenary. Life was simpler then. I just had to wait for someone in the city to fuck up, kill the bastard and get paid. Now, with the friends I have and my constant need to keep my family out of harm’s way, I am bound to take jobs of a more agreeable nature. Namely, this expedition to the Deep Roads. I don’t know how I let the dwarf talk me into earning the money to become a partner, but it seems there is no end to the ills of this city and someone is always looking for someone else to right them. Namely me. 

As Meeran approaches he claps me on the shoulder, “Hawke, you must come back to the Red Iron. It’s been nearly a year and I have yet to find anyone as capable as you.” He smiles and I can tell it is genuine. “These new recruits couldn’t tell the right end of a dagger from their own asshole.” Meeran has always had a way with words and I can’t help but let out a hearty chuckle.

“Oh, Meeran. I told you, you would miss me,” his smile spreads across his rough face and he takes a seat at the bar beside me.

“I know, I know. So, how’s the straight and narrow working out for you? Can’t imagine you’ve been idle these last few months.” He leans against the counter and signals for two drinks to be brought over. “In fact, I hear you approached Bartrand about heading out on his expedition to the Deep Roads. Hard man, that one. Not one I’d like to tangle with.” That was something coming from a leader of assassins and mercenaries. “He’s approached me about taking some of my men along. Don’t imagine he’d really have a use for them with you at his side, but I won’t turn down the coin.” As his proffered drink lands on the table, he picks it up and takes a hearty swig.

“I’d like to say, I gotta pay the bills, but apparently I am to earn enough coin to approach him as a partner.” His caterpillar eyebrows raise at my revelation. “Yeah, not my idea. Been having to pick up any odd job that comes along.” 

“HA! I’d heard you were in here not too long ago, working for the bleeding Templars. I know how much you love them.” He gives a friendly elbow to my side and I hardly feel it below my armor. 

Dodging Templars had been a daily occurrence since our arrival in Kirkwall. The joys of having a mage for a sister. It’s my turn to pick up my drink and take a hearty swallow.

“But if it’s coin you are looking for, I’ll keep an ear out. I’m sure I could pull together an odd job here and there. If I find something I’ll just leave word at your place in Lowtown.” 

I lift my own cup to my lips again, this time for just a sip, and am surprised to find it isn’t half bad, or maybe I’ve simply got used to the piss they try to pass off at The Hanged Man.

“Well, enough chat. I’m sure you came here for reasons other than to catch up with this old man. I will leave you to your pleasures.” His smile takes on a devilish tilt. As he turns, he smacks the ass of the nearest serving girl. I can’t help but laugh to myself.

As I finish my drink I turn to find Madame Lusine approaching. 

“Hawke.” She states my name as if it were a bitter thing on her tongue.

“Lovely as ever, I see.” I give her a slight bow but her glare tells me she doesn’t appreciate the gesture.

“Oh, save your flattery Ferelden. I assume you came here for Broderick. Maker knows he’s seen enough of you.” The last is mumbled under her breath, but she surely meant for me to hear it. She pulls out her ledger to mark down my name and allotted time.

“The Blooming Rose, the finest prostitutes, and service that will blow your mind,” I state with exaggerated enthusiasm. 

My sarcasm isn’t lost on her.

“Keep it up Hawke, and I will give you something that will blow your mind.” 

She takes my coin and I resume my seat at the bar, awaiting my well paid for prize. I order another drink and enjoy the sweet taste as it lingers on my tongue. 

“Hey, sweetness.” A low humming voice purrs in my ear. “When are you going to let the rest of us have a go at that taut body of yours?” Fingers graze the small bit of flesh exposed on my arm. “I’d really like to see what you’ve got hiding under all that armor.”

“Serendipity.” I greet the establishments resident transexual. She turns to stand before me. “You know I am here for only one thing.”

“You are aware, that Grey Warden of yours comes in here just as often as you do. And I’ve caught him looking.” 

My eyebrows raise and I choke a little on my beer. 

To my surprise, she doesn’t seem offended. “Don’t knock what you have yet to try.” she saunters off and I have to admit, I’m a little curious. Just not enough to actually follow her up the stairs. 

Speaking of stairs. My well paid for prize is standing at the top awaiting my presence.

I set my mug down and wipe the ale from my lips. Making my way up the stairs, I take in his svelte figure, his blonde curly locks, and his come-hither stare. My heart constricts and my palms become damp. To see it on that face makes me ache. Why does he have to have his face? For the millionth time, I think myself such a fool.

Before entering the room he takes my hands and leans in, his mouth grazing my ear, “Take me now, Hawke.” 

Every inch of my body responds. An eager wetness settles in my now encumbering armor.

As we enter the room, I am ready to settle our debt but he pauses and releases my hands. Instead of removing my armor he walks over to his side table. On it lie tiny cakes and liquors. He pops one of the tiny petit fours, given to him by some Orlesian Noble, into his mouth. Taking a seat on the bed he pats it in a come here gesture. 

I reach for the straps on my armor but before I get the first one loose, he stops me.

“Listen, Hawke, I know we aren’t exactly friends, but over the last few months, I’ve come to know you quite well. I know it’s not my place to say this, but I like you and I’m going to say it anyway.” 

By his tone, I already know what is coming.

“Please, don’t.” I hold my hand up but it is ignored.

“Tell him.” He shifts to the edge of the bed and pulls me down beside him. “As much as I love your company, and let’s be honest, your coin, he’s eventually going to find out and then what will you do?”   
He can see the heartbreak on my face and decides to drop it, for now. Not willing to sour my mood any further, he stands and removes his pants, the only thing he had been wearing, and approaches me. He lays a tender kiss on my lips and brings me to my feet, “I’m sorry, I won’t bring it up again.”

Snapping out of my semi-depression, I place my hands on my hips in mock frustration, “Yes, my friend, we cannot have you breaking character.”

He straightens and with a serious expression pretends to wield a staff, “Right… Death to the Templars! Mage Rights! Suck on a fireball!” His impression of the Mage is spot on and I can’t help but laugh. “Better?” his grin is devilish.

“Much,” I state with a slight smirk, and I pull him to the bed. “Brody, you are too good to me.”

He places a cool finger on my lips. “Shh, call me Anders.”

……….

“How do you keep from crossing paths here? I see him as much as I see you,” Brody grins as he pulls his clothes on.

“I thought we were dropping this,” I growl out my frustration.

“No, seriously. How do you keep from running into him?” 

His expression is quizzical, not the lecturing one from earlier and I can tell he isn’t going to drop this so I decide there is no harm in telling him.

“Isabella,” I state flatly.

He cocks an eyebrow waiting for me to continue. 

I groan but continue, “I am paying Isabella to tip me off when he goes to The Hanged Man.” This earns me a hearty chuckle.

“What? It’s worked so far.” I start sliding my underclothes on and gathering up the pieces of my armor.

“So far, only goes so far, love.” He approaches me tentatively, knowing my ire has been raised, and takes the armor out of my hands, setting it on the bed. I wonder what he’s doing but then he picks up my breastplate and slides it over my head. He continues to dress me in such a fashion until even my gauntlets are in place. This act makes something well up inside me, something I didn’t realize I had been holding back until this moment, “He doesn’t want me.”


	2. Anders' Dirty Little Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke had thought her secret was safe from those closest to her. She knew it couldn't last forever.
> 
> Anders has a secret of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smutty, smut, smut. I adore Anders, but I do feel he would be this kind of creepo!

Looking around the Blooming Rose, I recognize many faces. It disgusts me to come in here, knowing many of these people are disease-ridden and vile, but this is the only place I can go to get her out of my head. I walk up to the bar and order a pint. If nothing else, it’s better than the swill The Hanged Man tries to pawn off.

“Madam Lusine!” I throw my arms up in greeting. “What a fine night.” 

She makes a disgusted noise as she comes to take my coin. “Another damn Ferelden with coin to burn.” 

Her disgust for the well-off Ferelden’s in Kirkwall is widely known. What she doesn’t know is that I fought a group of would-be bandits on the way here and lifted their coin purses. Justice has some uses after all. 

“What will it be tonight Warden?” She pulls out her ledger, quill poised and ready.

I rub at the scruff along my chin, making it look like I am truly trying to decide the answer to that question. “How about a busty blonde with curves to spare?” 

She begins to write my name in the allotted slot and I quickly change my mind. “Or a lovely little elven lady, hear they are flexible.” I try for my best smile but it falters, for these things are the exact opposite of what I want. 

But that’s the point, isn’t it? To get her out of my mind. 

“Very well, Serrah.” She saunters off to find what she believes to be the object of my desires for the evening.

A cool hand caresses my forearm. “Well, I thought you were with another customer.” 

I stand to face the woman, confusion plain on my face.

“Oh, pardon me Serrah, I thought you were someone else.” Embarrassed she turns and walks back to the way she came. 

Why is someone always trying to hire me when I come in here? 

Frustrated, I almost turn to go but then I see my purchase for the night strolling towards me. She takes my hand. I kick back the last of my ale and follow her up the stairs. 

Entering the room she begins a slow, seductive dance but that isn’t what I am looking for. “Let’s make this quick, princess. I haven’t got all night.” She pouts but begins stripping her clothes off and I do the same. She stands at the foot of her four-poster bed, one hand gripping the post, one hip cocked out to the side. She does know how best to display her assets, I will give her that. 

Wasting no time, I approach her and kiss her wishing it was Hawkes’ lips I was tasting. Stop thinking about her. I break away from the kiss, needing more. Gently I push her shoulders back and she falls to the bed with a playful giggle. She spreads her legs in open invitation and I accept. Her voluptuous tits are heavy in my hands as I lift them to my mouth. Her nipples are large and hard. I feel my excitement rising, being fanned by the noises coming from the room adjacent to this one. Whoever is in there is getting very loud. 

Just as I am ready to enter the woman laid out before me, I hear the most curious thing. The person in the next room screamed my name. I pause, trying to decide why anyone would be screaming my name in this brothel, but decided it must be a coincidence. 

“Honey, you needin’ some help down there?” The woman splayed beneath me reaches for my cock only to find it rock solid. 

I decide to put the noises coming from the next room out of my mind and take this as the distraction it is meant to be. I press my forehead between her breasts, her cloying perfume clogging my nostrils. Lifting her hips, I enter her, hard and unforgiving. Driving my desire for Hawke into this woman all at once. Her gasp only drives me to push harder. Her tightness wraps around me. Closing my eyes, I imagine milky white skin, striking blue eyes. No. I force myself to stare into the nearly emerald eyes of the woman in this bed. I am almost to my brink when I hear my name again, but this time I know I recognize the voice. 

It can’t be. 

My curiosity overrides my desires and I pull away from the woman in front of me. I leap off the bed and over to the conjoining wall, placing my ear against it.

“Messere, that is not allowed, we…” With a gesture, I cut off her words.

Again, and this time it is unmistakable. I stand like this, listening, until all sounds from the other room abate. My head is spinning. My thoughts duel with my actions. I want to walk into that room and destroy whoever she was fucking. Whoever she was fucking and calling my name. But my feet won’t move. I am frozen. Do I truly want to know if that was her? If it was, what should I do about it? 

Finally, I decide to get dressed and wait for her. 

The door to the other room opens and again I am frozen.

“Thank you, Brody. You are too good to me.” Her muffled voice says beyond the door, and I hear what sounds like a kiss. 

“Anytime, Serrah. Anytime.” The man she called Brody responds.

I can’t make myself turn the handle on the door. 

I wait until I can no longer hear her retreating footsteps before stepping out of the room. I step out into the hallway and nearly collide with a man who could easily pass for my twin brother. 

At my dumbfounded look, he grins. “Anders, I presume.” He looks me over and his eyebrows raise.

I have nothing to say to that, so I ask the one question on my mind. “Who were you just with?”

His grin turns devious, then he purses his lips. “You know Serrah, that we take privacy very seriously around here.” Almost immediately he seems to soften. “I could not tell you, no matter how much I may want to.” And with that, he enters his room and shuts the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the Anders POV.


	3. Lost in Thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke is tired. Tired of fighting, tired of fulfilling everyone's needs and not her own. She needs to think or stop thinking, she isn't sure which. Thinking just leads to thoughts of Anders, and not thinking...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff... Super fluff.
> 
> Have I mentioned, I adore Anders?

I lash my battle ax to my back. Maker, I just need a moment alone. The voices of my mother and uncle continue to rise from the next room. Some days I wish I would have never found that stupid will. Now the entire house fights about money day in and day out. I count it a blessing that Gamlen hasn’t realized how much my sister and I have made over the last year. He has eyed my new armor but has kept his mouth shut about it for the most part.

“I’m going out,” I announce to no one, half hoping my words go unheard. Mother may send me on a pointless errand. I really don’t feel like tracking down whatever piece of silk, or new product she wants tonight. Besides, half of the stalls in the market will be closing soon.

“I’ll come with you.” I turn to face my sister. She has her staff in hand before I can protest. 

“Bethany, it’s getting dark. There are thugs who come out at night. We needn’t give the Templars any more reason to come after you.” 

Her face looks crestfallen, but I need time to think and she will jabber my ear off all night.

I place my hand on her shoulder. “Besides, I am just going to The Hanged Man.”

Her face brightens. I know she hopes to play cards with Isabella or hear more of Merrill’s wild Dalish tales. “All the more reason to come.” She gives me a small smile but it is quickly erased when she realizes my mind's already made up.

“I’ll be back soon,” I assure her, planting a kiss her on the cheek. 

“Mari, I want to come. I don’t want to be around their bickering any more than you do.” Her tone is forceful, for Bethany anyway, and I can’t say no to her when she puts her foot down.

“Fine. I’m not headed straight there. I will walk you but wait for me. Don’t leave the tavern alone. Promise?”

She nods her assent.

Outside, the air is cool and crisp this evening. With the setting of the sun, many of the lingering smells of the city fade from memory. The smell of rotten fish is replaced by the gentle salty tang of the water not far off. The smell of sweaty armpits, replaced by roasted meats as everyone winds down to dinner.

I watch as merchants pack up their wares silks, jewelry, armor. Outside The Hanged Man a couple is bickering, but it quickly evolves into a passionate kiss. 

“Oh, my.” Bethany sighs as she grabs my arm.

It’s easy to forget that since coming to Kirkwall, I am not the only one who’s been alone.

“Alright. I will be back soon.”

Her eyes wander back to the couple. Hands have begun to disappear into folds of fabric. I spin her toward the door and gesture for her to move it. She frowns but moves inside.

Around the side of the building, a group of men drunkenly herald the coming night. I let my feet carry me where they will as the sun sinks lower on the horizon. I truly have no plan to go to the tavern, just a desire to be alone. I feel as if I spend all of my time surrounded by the neediest people. 

All of them want something from me. 

I need to clear my head.

Paying no attention to my surroundings, I keep moving. I consider going to the docks, looking out over the water, but that does not seem to be where I am headed.

Before long, I realize I have made my way to Darktown. I stop, trying to regain a sense of where I am exactly. Not the best place to lose one’s senses. I sigh, trying my best and failing to not inhale the odor that is Darktown. I gain my bearings. I am not far from Anders’ clinic.

Maker, why here? I scowl at my betraying feet.

Just entering this place is becoming ever more painful. Not because of the smell, or the constant fighting. Not because of the destitute lining the paths. Simply because every time I walk these paths I am forced to push down my feelings for him. He has tried to warn me away but my heart simply refuses to listen. It seems I have tried everything I can to forget him but every step I take leads me to his doorstep. Even now, I am literally standing in the door to his clinic. I don’t even remember walking the few steps it would have taken me to get here.

I consider turning back. This isn’t where I should be. Hand ready to close the door it has just opened, I look up. I watch as a familiar scene plays out before me, much like when we first met. A young boy, no older than nine, lays on a makeshift cot in the middle of the room. His young mother and father stand nearby clutching each other. I watch as magic pours from Anders into the small still frame. Instantly, I am drawn into the room. I am awestruck as he offers this boy a small sacrifice of himself. His energy, his lifeforce, is being poured into another human being with no regard for the toll it takes on him. Always, he puts the well-being of others ahead of his own. It is not hard to see why I am in love with this man. 

In love, did I really just think that?

He is an apostate, a Grey Warden and has a spirit living inside of him, yet I see nothing but the kind, giving soul standing in front of me at this very moment.

Before coming to Kirkwall, I had never given the plight of mages much thought. Yes, my sister is a mage, as was my father, but I’ve never had anyone close to me who was forced to leave their family to live in a Circle. I have never been privy to those mages who fear being made tranquil. Yes, my family has always been forced to hide what they were but after we lost my father, nobody paid much attention to Bethany. She has always been a kind and loving soul. She never has anything ill to say about anyone and has lived a rather quiet life. Plus, Father taught her well how to avoid the Templars. But coming here, seeing the injustices all around us, being near Anders, I see what Father used to always say, "Rule does not serve by caging the best of us." 

In an instant, this instant, I now know I will do anything to see the world my father, and now Anders envisioned and fought for. I will fight against the injustices done here. I will fight for my family. I will fight for him.

Lost in my own thoughts I neglect to take in the full scene around me. While watching Anders, I had not noticed the abject fear on the faces of the child’s parents. They fear the man standing before them, even as they place their child’s life in his hands. Maybe growing up around mages has left me little to fear from them, but for some reason, it angers me. I can feel the heat rising in me. A burning need to prove to them they have nothing to fear, and if they thought they did, maybe they should have gone elsewhere for their son’s treatment. My fists tighten at my sides and the desire to punch either, or both of them, square across the jaw overrides all intellectual thought. 

I make my way across the room, with only that thought in mind when suddenly Anders falters. Quickly, I race to his side before he falls to the ground. I cradle him in my arm and pull him into me, anchoring him. “Anders, are you alright?”

He wraps his arm around me and leans in. “I… I’m fine.” 

“Serrah, is… is my son okay? Will he be okay?” The mother twists a tear-soaked rag nervously between her fingers. She looks between the two of us.

I’ve heard the speech before so I answer. “Your son will be fine. This mage saved him.”

She turns contrite eyes in my direction but my anger isn't assuaged.

“He will need to rest but given a few days, the lingering effects of the illness will be gone.” My tone is harsh, but I regret nothing when the father, scared as he is, takes Anders hand and whispers “Thank you, Messere.”   
A slow nod of Anders' head lets the man know his thanks is appreciated and acknowledged and the couple departs quickly, the boy carried out by his father.

I look up into Anders' face. He looks at me as if just now realizing I am there.

“Thank you, Hawke.” His body pressed into mine as another wave of dizziness threatens to overtake him.

Not sure what he is thanking me for I smile back. “Anytime.”

“I mean it. I don’t think the man would have said anything to me, not that I expect undying gratitude if you hadn’t said something.” He brings his hand up to massage the bridge of his nose.

“Come on, let’s get you somewhere a bit more comfortable than pressed against my spiked armor.” 

He chuckles a warm and comforting sound that nearly has me losing my footing. We move as one to the table where he keeps his patient notes and books. He turns and half sits, half leans onto the table.

“You continue to amaze me, Hawke.” He breathes as we continue to untangle ourselves from each other. 

I meet his gaze, his face so close to mine, and there is a glimmer in his eye, a small smile on his lips. I am left at a loss for words, my throat threatening to close up, cutting off my air supply. My silence urges him to continue.

“You aren’t even a mage, yet you stand up for us at every opportunity. Why?” 

I let this question linger in the air a moment before responding. “You seem to forget, my dear mage, that I come from a family chock full of magic. It is by sheer dumb luck I did not receive the gift.” I try to make my tone casual, nonchalant, but I fear that maybe I came off as glib and uncaring.

“Even now, you refer to magic as a gift, not a curse?” The heat in his eyes burns through all of the metal surrounding my body. Quickly the heat is replaced by something else and I cannot decipher what it means. It is gentle, kind, almost as if he is seeing me in a new light.

I step away from him, trying to put some distance between us. His very presence makes it hard to think and after a few moments, I give him the most honest answer I can, without exposing my feelings for him. “My father, he was a good man. Kind, gentle. He loved my mother with a rare passion. My sister is the same. I cannot imagine anyone hating them for any reason. Yet, because they wield magic, some people fear them and fear turns to hate. My brother, Carver, he seemed to always hate Father and Bethany for their shared bond. I never understood it, his hate, but I think what he hated more was the way people would hate him for the association. It wasn’t exactly a secret that they were mages. They hid it well enough when Templars were around, but they trained at our house. Carver is another story altogether, for all his asinine ideas, I do miss him.” Looking down at my hands I begin to fidget. I know I am rambling and I know the unshed tears are threatening to break loose. 

Breathe. 

“As I was saying, I have seen the good that magic can be used for. You, for example, heal the sick on a daily basis. There is nothing nobler. The price you pay to help the lowest of peoples, and you ask nothing in return. It just makes no sense. Why would someone want to lock away the best of us?” 

“And you believe me to be “the best of us”?” His smile reaches his eyes this time.

“Why not? I see no one else working so selflessly.” I gesture wildly and nearly clip Anders with my gauntlet. 

He rewards my response with an expression that makes my knees go weak. 

Deciding it is too dangerous to be face to face with him, lest I give in and kiss those smirking lips, I hop up onto the table beside him. In the silence I begin to swing my feet back and forth, watching them to keep my eyes off of him. The silence is a companionable one but I feel the need to add. “After all you have done, they still fear you.”

His fingers return to the bridge of his nose. “I know… I won’t stop helping them, but I know.” 

His weariness tears at my heart. Oh, if this man would only let me love him I would take him into my arms right now. I would kiss him until those small worry lines in his forehead faded away. Placing my hand on his arm in a gesture of solidarity and comfort, I turn to look at him. I start to say something but he places his hand over mine and the words are lost. As we sit there, the moment seems to stretch on endlessly. I start to lean into him but remember our previous conversations. I pull my hand back and place it in my lap, refocusing on my pendulum feet. 

This time the silence is deafening. It is Anders who finally breaks it.

“Where’s Varric?” He asks as he begins looking around.

Lost in my own thoughts, his question makes no sense. “What?”

His back stiffens as he stands, again pressing his fingers to his forehead, “You can’t tell me… Please, don’t tell me you came down here alone.”

His sudden anger takes me aback and I am unsure how to respond, “I… uh…”

Taking my hands in his, he bends down trying to catch my eye. “Hawke, it isn’t safe to come down here alone, especially at night. What were you thinking?”

I laugh to myself, honestly, I wasn’t thinking, but I don’t tell him that. I try my best to keep my response light-hearted. “Anders, if it bothers you that much, you my friend, need a safer place to live.” I smile, trying to make my expression reflect my words and he drops my hands. 

He leans his body up against the pillar next to the cot. “Well… that’s a fair point.” He grins but I can’t tell what he is thinking. “So, what made you trek all the way down here by your lonesome, in the dark?” He crosses his arms over his chest awaiting my answer but I have none to give. 

I begin fidgeting again, kicking my legs back and forth like a pendulum. I say the first thing that comes to mind. “Anders, do you really want to go on this Deep Roads expedition with me? I mean, you’ve only just escaped the Wardens and it seems like too much to ask…” 

His hand on my arm stops my words when they won’t stop themselves.

“For you, I will do anything.” 

The sincerity in his words shocks me and my body freezes. For what seems like an eternity my brain echoes his words over and over. I don’t know how long I sat there like a dumb idiot but as much as his words excite me, they make me a little uneasy. For two solid weeks or more I will be spending every night with him.

“Are you certain? I truly do not want to put you in a position you don’t want to be in?’ Now it is my turn to stare at his hands left on my body. He senses my discomfort and decides to return to his seat at my side.

“Let me ask you this, who else are you planning to take on this expedition? I can’t imagine you would want to put your sister in so much danger, so that would leave Merril and she is inept at healing. It seems I would be the smarter choice, does it not?”

I am not so sure about the smarter bit, so I decide to address his original question instead. “Well, of course, Varric is going. And if you go it only makes sense to bring Fenris…” My words are quickly cut off.

“Oh, I am definitely coming!” He stands and offers his hands to help me off of the table. “Can’t have you falling for Elf Boy on those long, lonely nights.” 

I’m not positive he meant to say that out loud but we both laugh. 

“Hey, I was thinking about grabbing a few drinks. Would you like to come along?”

His invitation is surprising, and I want to say yes, but getting drunk with him seems like a bad idea. A girl can only be rejected so many times before she starts to think there is something wrong with her, and while drinking lowers inhibitions, I am not sure that is the way I want to get Anders into bed.

“At The Hanged Man?” I inquire, only to keep our conversation going.

A smug smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “We could always go to The Blooming Rose if there is something that tickles your fancy there.”

I cannot help the immediate blush the creeps across my cheeks. Shit, he knows. “I… uhh… Why would you want to go there?” I try for incredulous but fear my nerves have got the better of me. 

Did he just invite me to a brothel? To what purpose, if he didn’t know? 

“Well, I’ve heard the drinks there are quite superior to what you find in Lowtown.” He pauses, awaiting my response.

“Oh, umm… no.” I can’t gauge whether or not he is trying to wrangle me into a confession or just baiting me to mess with me.

His arms crossed over his chest. “Wait, what did you think I was suggesting?”

Relief floods through me. He was baiting me. “Nothing. The Hanged Man. Let’s just go to The Hanged Man.” 

He chuckles and takes my arm in his. “Good, I needed an excuse to walk you home.”

Maker, save me! This is going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was going to be much longer, but I split it in two. Next, we will see a glimpse of them at The Hanged Man.


	4. The Hanged Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders and Hawke make it to The Hanged Man.

As we enter the tavern a loud chorus of “Hawke!” is shouted throughout. People raise their glasses in salute and I raise my fist in the air in return. Anders turns a questioning look my way.

“Don’t ask.” I turn away from him, eyes scanning the crowd until I find our group occupying a corner table.

“Come on, you walked into a tavern and everyone cheered your name. Sounds like the beginning of a good story to me.” He watches me expectantly until I give in.

I throw my hands in the air. “Honestly, I have no idea. Apparently, one night I came in and got really drunk. I guess after that I put on quite a show. I really have no idea what happened but since that night, they all love me.”

“Right, a likely story.” He doesn’t believe me.

“Look, for all I know I could have stripped naked and danced on the table with Isabella!” At this his eyebrows raise and I can tell he is pondering the image. “But neither she nor Varric will tell me what happened that night.”

Speaking of the devil. I catch sight of Isabella strutting our way. She takes in our linked arms and gives me a wink.

A hail of, “Hey, Blondie,” drags Anders away from me before Isabella makes it to us and for that I am grateful.

“Well, well.” Isabella’s smug smile lets me know exactly what she is thinking.

“Alas, my dear Isabella, his heart is not yet won.” 

She sneers at me. “It’s not his heart I’m interested in honey.” 

We both chuckle and make our way to the table where Anders has already joined Varric, Fenris, and Bethany. I take the chair at the head between Anders and Fenris.

We all order drinks and Varric starts us on a game of Wicked Grace. I have never understood the rules but I enjoy playing, win or lose. It’s more about the company than anything else, and looking around, I realize that this is the group of people I cherish most in this world. Aside from my mother, these are the people that have my back win, lose or draw. Over the last year they have stood by my side and against all odds, we have all prevailed and come out better for it, even my moody, Broody elf. I smile up at Fenris and he returns the smile, even though he has no idea what brought it on. I am tempted to reach out and place my hand on his arm but I know he doesn’t like touch, so I resist.

With the drinks flowing and laughter abounding I now know, this was what I had needed earlier. Not to escape but just to relax and remember life isn’t always hard. To remember these are the people I get up and fight every day for. The demands they put on me are really not that bad.

Just as the game is dying down, Isabella asks. “So, Varric, heard any new rumors lately? And I mean juicy ones, not jobs people need us to do for them.” She leans in, waiting for him to spill and nearly spills her breasts across the table. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Fenris ogling. When he sees my grin, he clears his throat and sits a little straighter in his chair, refusing to meet my eyes.

“Oh yeah.” He pauses until he has everyone’s attention. 

“You will not believe this one.” Again he pauses, waiting until we are all hooked and waiting for the big reveal. 

“So, rumor has it there is a prostitute at The Blooming Rose that is the spitting image of Blondie over here!” He gestures to Anders and we all turn to look at him.

“What? It isn’t me.” Both hands shoot in the air to declare his innocence.

Everyone at the table bursts out into a fit of laughter. It isn’t until we have regained some sense of composure that Varric continues.

“No, really! Apparently, this guy gets quite a few regulars.” Varric states and wiggles his eyebrows at the Mage. 

I choke on my beer. I glance towards Isabella and she shrugs. “How... “ I cough to clear my throat. “How do you know this?”

“What, that there’s a Blondie look-a-like or that he has regular customers?”

“Either… Both,” I can’t bring myself to look at Anders, but I can feel his gaze and a blush begins creeping up my neck. I try to play it off as the alcohol, but I am not sure who is buying it.

“Well, as a matter of fact, Blondie himself ran into him the other night.” He gestures to Anders and even a quick look in his direction tells me he is finding my reaction quite amusing.

I try to suppress the instant horror I am now consumed with and tell the boys Isabella and I will grab the next round. We both get up and make our way to the bar.

“Thanks for volunteering my coin, Hawke.” She leans against the bar, her ample bosom again threatening to spill over the top of her shirt.

“Oh, I’ll pay, but Maker, I needed to be out of that conversation.” I bring my hands to my face in an attempt to wipe away my shame. When I pull my hands away, her knowing smirk makes me question her loyalties.

She orders a round for the table. 

“Any chance they will have dropped this subject by the time we get back?” I ask hopefully.

“More likely they will be waiting for us to get back to talk about it more. Face it, sweetie, it’s happening.” She takes a swig of her ale and calls for a whiskey.

I grab her arm and make her look me in the eye. “Please, Isabella. Tell me you did not just set me up.” 

“No, I didn’t set you up.” At my questioning glare, her ire raises. “I swear. But if you don’t let me go, I might just punch you.” 

I release her arm.

“Look, don’t get so wound up about it.” She cocks her hip out and leans in toward me. “You know, I could just bang this ugly obsession out of you, in one way or another.”

I laugh and Isabella smiles knowing she has successfully lightened my mood. We return to the table, drinks in hand.

“So, Hawke?” Varric questions.

Oh, no. 

“You’ve been in The Blooming Rose lately. I’m surprised you haven’t run into our doppelganger.” 

Varric, why?

Isabella pipes up. “That’s right. Didn’t the Templars send you back in there for some follow up about the blood mage?” 

Isabella, I’m going to kiss you later.

“Yeah, it’s been awhile but I didn’t really scope out the clientele. I had more important matters in mind.” 

That should save me, right?

“Uh, huh,” Varric states in obvious disbelief. “So what were you investigating just a few nights ago?” 

Varric, I am going to strangle you in your sleep.

“Oh… I…” I look up to see all eyes on me, including those of my baby sister.

I don’t want Bethany to think ill of me, but it’s either that or Anders finds out I’ve been banging his look-alike. “Well, ok. You got me. Maybe I did scope out the clientele a bit.” I look to Anders who is wearing a large smug grin. I lean forward ready to spill my juicy secret. “You remember that feisty little elf that we met the first time we went in there?” I throw my hands in the air as if my cover is now blown. “I couldn’t resist. I had to go back and see if he was just as feisty with his clothes off.” An uproarious laughter ensues from all at the table, even Bethany, yet I’m sure I will hear about it from her later on. I turn to Isabella and she winks at me from across the table. 

Fenris leans over to me, a drunken grin plastered to his face, “So, you like feisty little elves, do you?” He raises his glass to mine and whispers, quite loudly, “I can be quite feisty.” 

I can’t help but giggle and click my glass to his. A round of “To feisty elves” and the clinking of glasses rises around the table and continues across the tavern. 

“So, Hawke. You ready to spend two to four weeks alone with this crazy bunch,” Varric asks.

“Oh, I’m sure I will be in for quite the ride,” I mutter and we all laugh again. Except for Isabella.

“What’s up, Isabella?” I ask, not sure where her sudden frown came from.

“It’s just, you guys are going to be gone for so long. Promise me something?” 

This being so out of character for her I give her my assurances that I will.

“Don’t have any drunken orgies without me.” 

And there she is. 

“Isabella!” We all shout in unison, but I can’t help but laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Deep Roads expedition begins next.


	5. Deep Roads Camp Day 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke, Varric, Anders, and Fenris spend their first night at camp in the Deep Roads.

“Oh, Maker!” The sight before me is one I did not expect to encounter in the Deep Roads. “Is that water?” I am covered head to toe in darkspawn ichor. The slimy, stickiness has been settling into my straps and seeping into the crevices of my armor.

Scouting ahead is proving to have its advantages. I am taking a bath. 

My excitement is short-lived. Just as I reach for the straps to unfasten my armor, a loud clamor arises behind me. Thinking the worst, I draw my battle ax. 

Bartrand’s men come pouring out through the narrow entrance. 

Well...Shit.

“We’ll make camp here!” Bartrand shouts to his men and all begin relieving themselves of their packs.

There goes my bath.

In an uncharacteristically whiny tone, I complain to Varric. “Why were they so close behind us?” I feel like stomping my foot, but I know it’s childish. I hate smelling of death and corruption.

“I guess Bartrand didn’t want to stand around waiting again.” He shrugs me off and heads straight for his brother. 

Varric will not be happy that Bartrand allowed his men to be put in danger. While we did well enough, carving a path through the darkspawn, that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be stragglers. I can only assume Bartrand had faith that, should we leave any behind, his mercenaries could handle them.

“Problem, Hawke?” Anders approaches and rests his hand on my shoulder.

“No.” I pout, and the whine in my voice annoys even me. 

“Are you actually pouting?” Anders asks as he mimics my stance.

“Ugh…” I squirm as ichor slides down my back. “When I saw the water my only thought was, I’ll be able to bathe before they show up. Look at me.” Lifting my hands to my hair, I run my gauntleted fingers through. Chunks of darkspawn flesh fall to the ground. I'm not sure if the fleshy glob fell from my hair or my armor, but I feel I've made my point. 

He turns the hand that had just been settled on my armor over to find it covered in the same goo that sticks to nearly every inch of my body.

“I see what you mean.” He wipes the sticky mess on his robe and instantly regrets it.

I shouldn’t be frustrated. I wasn’t even expecting to find running water down here. I don’t know how I thought the dwarves could have survived without it. It just never occurred to me. 

My frustration seems to amuse him because he chuckles and begins unloading his pack. “Bartrand has our tents and bedrolls,” Anders informs me and gestures for me to join him in retrieving them.

\---------------------------------------------

“Here, I suppose you’ll be wanting your own tent.” I look around and notice most men are piling into their tents with at least five men. They are the larger tents, made for such, but I hadn’t considered that we wouldn’t have the standard one-man tents. I suppose that would take up a lot of space.

Bartrand tosses me a rolled bundle, catching me off guard, and nearly knocks me on my ass. Maker, that hurt worse than it should have. My side aches, something I had written off to soreness until now. Varric chuckles, but seeing the pain on my face, quickly tries to hide it.

“Thanks, but if you need it for your other men, I don’t mind sharing a tent with mine.” I toss the tent down at his feet and he grunts. I can’t decipher the meaning of it so I move on. I take the tent Anders had been holding and make my way to the bedrolls. I turn to say something to Anders but his sudden frown gives me pause. Instead, I ask if there is something on his mind.

“You sure you want to share a tent with the three of us? It might get a little... cozy.” His sideways grin as he says the last word is awkward and I can tell he's uncomfortable. I can't help but laugh. 

“I will be fine.” he turns away from me. I know he wants to avoid being shoved into a confined space with me for extensively prolonged periods of time. Whether that time is meant to be sleeping or not, so I say the only thing I can think of that might put him a bit more at ease. “Besides, sleeping alone down here doesn’t sound like the most pleasant thing in the world,” a little shiver runs down my spine at the thought, “I never really liked caves. Too many dark corners for things to hide in,” Anders expression is a mix of mild amusement and concern. “Do you not want me to sleep with you?”

“Well, now that you mention it…” he cocks an eyebrow up at me and I roll my eyes. We head for the supplies and I grab two bedrolls. 

“Hey, just because you’re a lady, don’t mean you can just take two for comfort's sake.” The round dwarf reaches to take the second bedroll from my hand.

I am tempted to draw my blade but I resist, for one, my hands are full, “Oh, please, little man. Do the math. There are four in our party and only two of us standing here,” he glares at me but takes his hand back.

“Well, it’s good to see you are making friends,” Anders quips. I punch him in the arm and make my way back to the camp. Anders grabs two more bedrolls and jogs back to my side.

I can hear the sound of people splashing in the water nearby and I grumble again.

“Someone is sure in a mood,” Anders rubs his arm.

“Just help me set up the tent, will you?” He frowns at me but proceeds to assist me in rolling out the tent and posts. Fenris joins us and we work in companionable silence until the tent is up and our gear placed neatly around it. Fires are being built around us and Anders lights the dry wood in the center of our little campsite. The smell of woodsmoke begins to settle my nerves. The boys head off to take their turn in the stream and I stay behind. I have no interest in seeing that many naked men. I lie back in front of the fire, relaxing my tired muscles. Closing my eyes, I fall somewhere between sleep and awake. 

Footsteps near our site, I sit up. Pain lanced through my side and I cringe. Shit. I must have pulled something. I lean back, eyes closed against the pain, giving it a good stretch. 

The pain must be evident on my face because Anders’ worried voice cracks with concern, “Are you alright?”

I open my eyes to tell him I’m fine but the words stick in my throat. 

Fenris has no shirt on. 

His wet skin glistens in the firelight. His lyrium tattoos swirl across his entire body in beautiful intricate patterns. It is hypnotizing. My eyes follow their trail, his chest, abdomen and the luscious “V” that separates his abs from his hip bones. I find myself wondering just how far they go.

“Hawke,” Anders voice again.

“Uh… what… Oh, sorry.” I sit up and bring my hand to my forehead, partially to hide the small blush in my cheeks but also in an attempt to make my next words more believable, “Just a little light headed there for a second,” light-headed is right.

I meet Fenris’ eyes and he looks away. He knew what I was doing and his shame brings on my own. While his markings may be beautiful to me, they are a brand he will bear the rest of his life, marking him as a slave. As property. 

“Most of the men have cleared out if you want to make your way down there,” Fenris states but he refuses to look me in the eye. 

Standing is painful but I make it to my feet without anyone asking again if I am alright. I reach for the straps holding my armor on. They are stuck. I tug on them hoping with enough force, they will release but it is a losing battle. Fenris and Anders both move to help me but with Anders being closer, Fenris resumes his seat next to the fire. 

“Having some trouble,” Anders chuckles, “Our mighty warrior can’t even remove her own armor?”

“Oh, har-dee-har. It’s stuck.” I raise my arm so Anders can better see the straps and his nose wrinkles.

“Well, that would be because you are caked in darkspawn ichor and it has somehow congealed onto your straps.”

“That’s disgusting!” I twist my body to try to get a better look but my side protests. I groan and it earns me a frown from both Anders and Fenris.

“I won’t disagree.” He turns and grabs a canteen of water. 

Pouring the water down my side sends a chill throughout my body and I shiver. His eyes lock on mine and a hint of playfulness resides within and is quickly gone. I try meeting his eyes again and I can tell it is hard for him to not give in. An awkwardness settles over us, but he doesn’t stop until most of the ichor is gone and the straps can be undone.

“There.” His fingers work the strap loose and I lower my arm, but Anders pushes it back up and continues until all the straps are loose.

“That’s not necessary.” I try to pull away from him but the effort makes me cringe. He stills my body and lifts the armor over my head. 

“You look completely worn out. Just accept my help and say, thank you, Anders. It's not that hard.” He grins and I can't help but give him one myself.

He hands me the canteen so I can work the straps on my gauntlets and cuisses. “Thank you, Anders.”

“Anytime.” His suggestive tone sends another shiver up my spine but I force my body to not react.

 

Once all of my armor is removed, I place the hunks of metal with Fenris’s gear just outside the tent. “Alright, bath time,” I announce to no one in particular and head for the stream.

A feather-light touch grazes my arm and I turn to find Fenris reaching out to me. He quickly draws his hand back, “Someone should go with you.” Well, wouldn’t you know? Fenris is concerned for my safety. I smile and am rewarded with a small one from him.

“Alright, let’s go.” 

Not bothering to put his gear back on, he bends to grab the blade at his feet and follows me to the water’s edge. 

There is no one within sight and I decide to strip down to my smallclothes. I get my shirt up over my head and hear Fenris’ quick intake of breath, “Hawke, you are injured.” He reaches out, without thinking and when his skin makes contact with mine the lyrium tattoos begin to glow. Realizing his mistake he pulls back quickly. 

“Does that happen every time you touch someone?” Maybe I shouldn't have asked but now that I had, I couldn’t take it back.

He begins fidgeting, rubbing the underside of his feet along the inside of his calves, he casts his head down and I know that whatever he is about to say will be difficult for him, “No.”

Alright, I wasn’t expecting a full explanation but I was hoping for more than that. I can see he doesn’t want to talk about it any further so I slip my pants off. “Would you mind holding these?” He takes them and turns his back to me so I can bathe in peace. 

*************************

“Enjoy the show, Elf?” Anders stands on the side of the tent, arms crossed and a sneer marring his handsome features.

Oh, Maker. These two just won’t quit. 

“I didn’t see you rushing to her side. Someone had to go with her.” He lays his blade back alongside his original place next to the fire and with the grace known only to his kind, crosses his legs and sits. He leans back on his hands, stretching out his lean figure. My eyes are drawn to him, yet again. This does not go unnoticed.

“Put some damn clothes on Elf. Or do you enjoy displaying those markings for all to see.” Anders knew it to be a low blow. But it has the effect he desired. Fenris reaches over for his tunic and slips it over his head. Satisfied Anders turns to me. It is my turn to glare. I shake my head and turn my back to him. 

 

I see the main camp has begun handing out dinner and I head in that direction. 

“And I suppose you’ll be wanting two bowls as well. One to take back to your little elfy boyfriend?” The same rounded dwarf that handed out the bedrolls is now dishing out stew for our merry little band.

“Excuse me?” My anger has my hand going for the blade at my hip. Hand on the hilt, I glare at the undaunted dwarf.

“Your boyfriend.” He gestures towards our campsite, ladle flinging remnants of the stew across the table holding the pot and bowls.

“What gave you the impression that he was anything but muscle I brought along to aid us in slaying darkspawn?” Hands on my hips I wait for his response.

“Oi, are you daft? Have you not seen how this one wields a blade. I’d watch it if I were you.” One of the mercenaries takes his bowl from the dwarf and heads back to his people. The dwarf shifts nervously but decides I won’t do anything in front of all of these people.

“I saw the way you made him light up like a glow worm.” His accusation loses some of its heat as he refuses to look into my eyes, instead choosing to give his ladle more attention than necessary.

“Just give me four bowls. I think I can carry them all.”

As he is handing me the last of the bowls, precariously perching it on top of one I am already holding, Anders walks up and takes two. He leans in and grabs four chunks of bread, dropping one in each of the bowls. “Now, all we need is some ale to wash this down with.” He smiles, trying to gauge whether or not I am still angry with him and his smile makes the anger slip away, not completely, but just enough to tolerate his presence. Together we walk over to the man with the ale barrels and grab two full mugs a piece. Hands full we head back to our tent in silence and dole out the mugs and bowls. Both Fenris and Varric take theirs elsewhere.

“Listen, I’m sorry about what I said to Fenris. He didn’t deserve that.” His apology loosens up my anger a bit more.

“I am not the one you should be apologizing to.” I take a bite of the stew and it is surprisingly delicious. Hearty chunks of meat fill my mouth and I dip my bread in for another taste of the broth. I’m going to sleep well tonight with this in my belly.

“He wouldn’t accept it, even if I tried.” I know this to be true but it doesn’t excuse him from trying.

“What is it with you two? You can’t seem to be around each other for more than a few hours without one of you saying something offensive to the other.” 

Anders seems confused. Like I had just asked, why is the sky blue. No one knows, they just accept it and move on,

“Truly, I want to know,” I ask in earnest.

Anders sets his bowl down and turns to me. “Do you really not notice how much he hates mages? How can you justify hating someone on principle?”

“Uh-uh, that’s not what this is about. Why did you get mad at him for wanting to protect me earlier?” The question hangs in the air. Anders’ eyes are now on his feet. 

“Hawke, I know your sister is a mage and you speak fondly of your father but,” his words stop abruptly. Whatever he was about to say I may never know. “Nevermind, let's just say I don’t trust him.”

“Do you think Fenris will hurt me?” he doesn’t answer but I can tell by the look he gives me that is exactly what he’s thinking. “What? Why would you think that? ” The incredulity clear in my tone.

“Maybe not physically, but it’s not the physical I am worried about. Not really.” 

Again I am taken aback. This is not a conversation I ever planned on having with him. “I have seen the way you look at each other. I know you’ve been spending time alone with him.” He drops his head in his hands. His fingers play through his hair and I wish they were mine.

“Anders,” I reach out and place my hand on his thigh, meant to be a gesture of reassurance but he pulls away from me.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” He walks away, leaving me with more questions I won’t be getting answers to tonight. I finish my stew in silence, wondering where Broody and Varric had gone off to. 

With the stew and a few mugs of beer in my belly, sleep sounds like heaven. I grab my oversize tunic and my comb out of my pack. Bethany calls it my warrior gown. I just can’t see why most women go out of their way to look good going sleep. Her nightgowns have lace and frills that would just irritate my skin. Mine is literally an oversized men's top. Ensuring the tent flap is down I strip off my clothes. 

My side protests again as I crawl into bed but I decide rest will help it more than anything. As I am about to fall asleep, Fenris enters the tent. He takes his tunic off and again I find myself following the flowing lines. He turns towards me. “You are awake,” it comes out as a question.

“Barely, I was just dozing off when you walked in.” I prop my head up on my arm.

He walks over towards me and I am reminded of just how graceful he is. Sitting a respectful distance away from me he looks as though he has something to say but no words come out.

“What is it, Fenris? You can talk to me.” 

He looks up and a small smile plays across his lips. “Earlier I noticed you have a tattoo...” he seems to be searching for a way to finish that statement but he falters.

“Yes, I do,” I say to keep him talking.

“Why?” His curiosity is unexpected, so I decide to answer as truthfully as possible.

“Before we left Lothering, we lost my father. As the eldest, it fell to me to ensure my family’s safety and well-being. We got by, but it wasn’t long before our village was destroyed by darkspawn. We barely escaped. We lost my brother. When we got to Kirkwall, it again fell to me to ensure my family’s safety. I became a mercenary to gain entrance into the city. For an entire year, I worked off that debt. It was difficult at times but it made me stronger, wiser. One day many of the men in my company decided to get tattoos, a symbol of our commitment to one another and the Red Iron. I went with them but decided I didn’t want a symbol that tied me to them. I wanted one that represented the future. It is a symbol of strength and unity. It reminds me that no matter what I’ve been through, as long as I stay strong and keep those I care about close to me, I will be fine.” I can see he has more questions but what he asks next surprises me.

“Did it hurt?” His gaze shifts to the floor and I know he is thinking of the pain he endured to gain his own markings. It crushes my heart to imagine the amount of torture he’s received. 

“Yes, what good would a symbol of strength be if you endured no pain to earn it?” his eyes meet mine and he smiles, a genuine smile.

“Fair point.” he rises and returns to his bedroll. “Goodnight, Hawke.”

“Goodnight, Fenris.” I lay my head down and my thoughts begin to drift. Tonight, they are not about Anders.

...................

Sometime later I awake to the touch of fingers brushing along my thigh. I moan in appreciation. The fingers still but only for a moment. The coarse blanket covering me shifts and I realize whoever was touching me before is simply trying to cover me back up. I crack open my eyes to find Fenris standing over me. I reach up, meaning to thank him with a gesture but he quickly pulls back.

“Sorry, Fenris,” I whisper, the tired gravel in my voice making it barely discernible even to my own ears, I clear my throat to say the next words, “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“No… uh… you didn’t frighten me. I thought you were asleep.” He looks away shyly.

I can’t help but giggle, “I was, silly. Until I felt someone touching me. Your hands are soft.” I don’t know why I said the last bit. Probably just my sleepy mind not knowing that it was inappropriate.

“I… uh,” he doesn’t know what to say and I can hardly blame him. Men don’t like to hear that any part of their body is soft.

Instead of making him more uncomfortable I thank him, “I’m covered now. No need to worry about me waking up exposed.” My tunic had risen well above my hips and the blanket had slipped off in the course of the night. 

With a small nod of his head, he returns to his bedroll but before he lays down, he turns to me, “Hawke,” my name comes out as a question.

“Yes, Fenris?”

He takes a moment to respond but when he does I am floored by what he says, “I think you are very strong,” and without another word, he rests his head on his pillow. 

I have no response to this. I lay my head back down and wonder at his words.


	6. Deep Roads Camp, Day 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke's injury never went away. She consumed elfroot potions but continued to take hits in the same place, never allowing the injury to fully heal.

The last few days have proven to be exhausting. Battle after battle with the darkspawn has kept us all on our toes. How many of us are still standing is beyond me. Fortunately, we have come upon a large cavern that is cut off from any other entrances. Anders assures us there are no darkspawn in the immediate area. We should be safe.

All of our ragtag crew begin unloading their gear with a weariness known only to the battle worn. The mercenaries have earned their coin.

We set up our camp only to realize our tent, as well as many others, will be a bit tight tonight. While the cavern may be big, between the fires, tents, men, and gear it is more than a little cozy. Bartrand insisting on taking up a good majority of the space bringing in his excavation equipment, not wanting it to be tampered with. 

He is so trusting.

“Maker, I am exhausted.” I lay my battle ax on the ground and lean into the cavern wall. My side has given me no relief over the past few days. I am now sure the injury is worse than I let on that first day. I’ve taken potion after potion but for some reason, any hit I’ve taken thereafter has only proven to make it worse, “Much more of this and I am going to collapse.”

My palm covers my ribs and Fenris speaks up, “Hawke, is your side still bothering you? You should have had Anders look at it when it happened.”

Anders turns to me. “Look at what? When what happened?”

“It’s nothing Anders.” I reach for the straps to remove my armor but lifting it over my head is proving to be much more difficult than it should.

“Hawke,” Fenris and Anders say in unison. Hearing my name come out of both of their mouths lets me know I am in trouble. They are not happy that I hid my injury at all.

Anders approaches, anger and concern clear on his face. “Blast it girl. Are you really injured? Why wouldn’t you tell me?” He lifts my armor over my head and just having the weight off is some relief.

“Remove your shirt. I need to see what you’ve done,” he demands.

“I’m fairly certain it was the darkspawn’s doing, not mine.” My joking produces a grimace on his already angered face.

“Stop joking around. Let me see it.” He moves to remove my tunic, fingers finding the hem since I seem in no hurry to do so.

“Alright, Anders.” I brush his hands away. “But can we at least do this in the tent. No sense in giving these men another free show.”

He seems to, only now, realize his actions would have left me in nothing but my breast band, and a blush creeps along his cheeks, “Oh, right. Let’s go then.”

We enter the tent, not bothering to close the flap since the only person in view is Fenris. With the other campsites so close, we are nearly on top of each other. The rest of our view is filled with the backs of two other tents.

Now that there is no adrenaline coursing through me, I feel every ache. Removing the tunic is slow going. Anders, frustrated with my pace, grips the hem and lifts it from the back ensuring I do not have to raise my arms. He folds the tunic over my head and it slips down my arms and onto the floor. 

“Maker,” his concern for me making his voice a breathy whisper. 

Anders’ hands are quickly on my sides, his thumbs grazing over my ribcage. The feel of his skin on mine sends my heart racing and I have to fight not to think about his hands elsewhere. This is the first time he’s touched me anywhere other than what was proper. I close my eyes, trying to think of anything else. Mabari puppies, my Uncle Gamlen, darkspawn. 

“Why, did you keep this from me? And how, in Andraste’s name, have you been able to wield that damn battle ax?”

I kept it from you for this very reason. I cannot function when you touch me. I want to say the words aloud but decide now is not the time, so I choose to ignore his original question and answer the latter.

“Uh… focus.” The look he gives me causes me to lose my humor. “Look, as a warrior, you are taught to fight through the pain. If I were to collapse every time I was injured, I would be quite useless.”

Realizing he’s made me upset, his features soften, now showing genuine concern rather than anger. “Hawke, why didn’t you tell me?” he is holding me now, gently, tenderly. It makes my insides somersault. I want to stand on the tips of my toes and kiss him. The need is so great I find myself leaning into him. He mistakes this for a sign of weakness and begs me to lie down.

“Just do it. It will be easier for both of us.” 

I do and after he’s ensured I am comfortable, he places his hands back along my side. They are so warm and I can feel the energy already pulsating through them. 

He begins his slow examination of my body. His hands smoothly, gliding along my ribs, my stomach, my hips. His touch makes my body ache in all new ways and I bite my lower lip. 

“This shouldn’t hurt. I’m sorry.” His touch becomes lighter, like feathers flitting across my skin.

Again he mistakes my body’s reaction to him. “Doesn’t hurt.” I close my eyes not wanting to see his reaction to those words.

“Oh, well, I promise it will be over soon.” The pressure of his fingers returns.

Just as my body is getting used to his touch, slow tendrils of magic begin pulsing their way through my body. The sensation has me arching my back. I lose all sense of time as my body thrums with his power. 

When he pulls his hands away the pain is gone, but in its place is burning need to feel him inside me. I open my eyes and see his hands are shaking. They cover his face muffling the sound of his ragged breathing. He is spent.

I reach up to place my hand over his, but by the time mine reaches him his hands are gone and I am left cradling his face. He presses his scruffy cheek into my palm and brings his hand back up to cover mine. He holds it there for a moment, almost as if he is absorbing the energy he poured into me a moment ago. He places a kiss in the center of my palm and lowers my hand back to my side.

“Now, you need to rest.” Slowly, he retreats from the tent. Closing the flap to allow me some semblance of privacy.

If I wanted the man before, it is nothing compared to what I am feeling now. My body still thrums with his magic and every inch of me begs for a release. I know I shouldn’t but the need is so great, I slip my hand under the waistband of my trousers.

\---------------------------------------------

 

“Leave it alone, mage,” Fenris’ voice breaches my sleep.

“I just don’t understand. Why, in Andraste’s name, didn’t you tell me,” Anders' voice rises with every word.

“You were alone with her most of the night. I didn’t realize she hadn’t told you until today. You can’t blame me for that.” The rest of the argument is spoken low enough I cannot decipher any other words, only their grumbling voices.

Oh, sweet Maker. 

I sit up gingerly, expecting pain but to my surprise, I feel none. Rising, I stretch but there is no need. 

I feel no pain… at all. 

My muscles aren’t sore. My feet don’t hurt. No wonder Anders looked so drained. He’d not only healed my side but my entire body. I locate my top and slip it over my head as I exit the tent. Fenris and Anders both look up at me, the shame at being caught arguing about me plain on their faces.

“You are well now?” Fenris stands. He makes his way to me and gestures for me to lift up the shirt. He needs to see for himself that Anders did what he said. I oblige, raising it just enough so he can see the bruising is gone. Satisfied, he returns to his seat by the fire.

“If you were so concerned, you could have come in to check on me.” I know it sounds flirty but as good as I feel, I just couldn’t resist.

“I told them to leave you alone. Let you rest. Shit, Hawke. Anders told us how bad a shape you were in. You could have told one of us.” I didn’t expect Varric to be so concerned. I take in the three men sitting in front of me. Their concern lifts my heart. I may have lost much over the last few years but these men are family. They are home.

“I’m sorry,” my voice cracks with emotion. I take a seat between Anders and Fenris and prop my feet up next to the fire.

“Hey, no need to get all teary-eyed on us, Hawke.” Varric has told me he can’t stand to see a human cry but I am far from tears. 

“Ha! Like I would get all emotional.” Three sets of eyes tell me they don’t believe me. “I really am sorry. I didn’t want to put anyone out fussing over me. I’m not some squishy mage.” I elbow Anders playfully in the side. “Or some delicate flower to be coddled. I know I should have said something and I let my pride get in the way. I won’t do it again.” They all seem satisfied with my apology and we settle into our usual banter, but soon my stomach is growling.

“I’m starving.” I get to my feet and look around, trying to spot Bartrand’s men. 

“Come on, we will all go grab whatever they’ve made for us tonight,” Varric says and the three of them stand and follow me to the smells of something roasting.

With full bellies, we lounge around the fire. Varric tells stories and we pass around a bottle of wine we snatched from Bartrand. Varric wasn’t pleased with the idea, saying if Bartrand found out he’d murder us in our sleep, but we figured it was worth the risk. 

“So, Hawke,” Varric starts, “What are your plans after this?”

“Oh, you know. Raise hell. Live a little,” I giggle and take another sip. The wine might be going to my head a bit.

“No, really. There could be untold amounts of treasure down here. Even split three ways, you could set your family up in Hightown if you wanted.”

“My family has rights to a spot in Hightown already. The illustrious Amell family.” This is not news to any of them. They have seen how hard my sister and I have fought in effort to win the estate back.

“You know, I knew an Amell. She’s the one who gave me Ser Pounce-a-lot.” He smiles in memory.

“Wait,” I sit up straight, “You’re telling me the Warden Commander, Hero of Ferelden, is the one who gave you your cat?” 

“Yes. We found him abandoned and she wanted me to leave him at the keep. I ended up carrying him around in my pack. He didn’t seem to mind though. Loved adventuring in new places.” We all turn to look at him incredulously. 

“Fine, don’t believe me. She also saved me from being turned over to the Templars and conscripted me, but if you don’t want to believe me about the cat, then I doubt you believe that as well.” He frowns and it borders on a pout. 

I feel this is my cue to turn in for the night.

“Well, I am off to bed.” I stand and can feel the full effects of the wine. I may not be drunk but slightly light headed and extremely relaxed. 

“I should get to bed too,” Anders says, “After healing you, I probably should have rested myself.” 

We walk together to the tent and he holds the flap open for me. I duck in and grab my tunic and comb from my pack. When I pull my shirt off, I feel Anders eyes on me and I turn to face him.

“You are beautiful,” he breathes out the words, and the reverence in them makes my heart stop. However, before I can react his fingers reach for the bridge of his nose and I can see he is in pain.

“A headache,” I ask.

Quickly he drops his hand, “No, I’m fine.”

Walking up to him, I take his hands, “No, you aren’t. I saw how much it drained you to heal that boy in your clinic. I remember holding you up so you didn’t collapse. And, I know you healed more than just my rib.” He starts to protest but I cut him off, “Anders, I feel no pain. None. Where are the scrapes from where that Emissary knocked me on my ass? My muscles aren’t even sore. I know you did that.” I let go of his hands and put my sleep shirt on. 

“Lay down,” I command.

He hesitates, not knowing my intent, but after a moment he complies. 

“Get comfortable,” another command and another hesitant reply. 

He reaches over, grabbing the pants he sleeps in, for my sake, sliding them on and then he removes his robes. His torso is bare and I take in the lovely sight. Where Fenris’ body is all taut muscle, Anders is soft. The outline of his abs just barely visible. His chest and shoulders are much more defined but still, they lack the rigidness that Fenris holds.

I kneel at the top of his bedroll and lift his head. Crossing my legs, I place his head in the center and loosen the band holding his hair. I run my fingers through, untangling the knots, and remember my comb is on my bedroll. I grab it and begin running the comb through his hair. This wasn’t my original intent but it seems to be relaxing him. I continue until all of the knots are freed and set my comb aside. With the tips of my fingers, I massage his scalp in slow circular motions. Slow, soft moans goad me on. His temples are next, followed by his neck. By the time I am finished he is nearly asleep. Gently I lift his head and replace my legs with his own pillow. I lean down and place a kiss on his forehead. He looks up at me then.

“Thank you, Hawke,” he smiles a sleepy smile and closes his eyes. 

\---------------------------

I wake to soft, hot breath snaking its way along my neck and shoulder. It sends a chill up my spine and my body spasms in response. I turn my head to find Fenris tucked in so close to my body, yet still managing to not touch me. His body frames mine and I know if I were to shift any further back he may light up like the night sky, but I am uncomfortable. I scoot towards Anders, lining up nearly flush with his back. I can feel the body heat radiating from him and realize a moment too late that moving was a bad idea. Fenris shifts, moving his body towards mine, again as close as he can be to me without actually touching me, and I am stuck between the two of them. Both men so close I could easily close the distance and wrap my arms around either one. As tempting as it is I try to remain still and close my eyes, begging sleep to return.

It's been over an hour. I cannot sleep. Not like this. Trying to keep my body stiff is only making me hurt. My hip bone is pressed into the floor and my arm is falling asleep. 

Time to cuddle with someone. 

Surely Fenris is the lesser of two evils, but what if he lights up? Will he be mad? He doesn't like touch. I know that. 

Groaning, I close what little distance there is between us and I wrap my arm around Anders. He snuggles his back into me and I am left breathing in his scent. It's not unpleasant, sweat mixed with herbs, and it stirs unwanted thoughts in my head and other places. 

Maker, this was a bad idea. 

It's not long before my eyes get heavy again. Hugging Anders’ body into mine is quite comforting.

\-------------------------

“They need to wake,” Fenris’ anger breaks through my slumber.

“Aww, come on Broody. They've been through a lot the past few days. Let ‘em be,” Varric’s calm voice.

I am wrapped in warmth. My head snuggled into his shoulder, our legs intertwined, his hardness pressed into my thigh. All I want is to take advantage of his closeness and kiss him but as my mind starts to come around. I am aware that this is my doing. He's turned me away at every opportunity. He doesn't want to pursue anything with me. I know he is afraid of hurting me but I can't help thinking a part of him just doesn't want me. If he did, wouldn’t he have tried something when he had me nearly naked and writhing under his touch? Wouldn't he have been the one to follow me down to the the water that first day?

Fenris enters the tent, his anger a palpable thing. I can’t concern myself with that at the moment. I bring a finger to my lips, asking for his silence while I slip out from under Anders. Moving my legs and then rolling his body away from mine. Looking up, I see confusion mixed with the anger as Fenris backs out of the tent, returning to Varric.

The next time I think about sharing such close quarters with these men, someone needs to slap me.

“Anders.” Shaking him, I try to rouse him. He moans but makes no move to get up. I try again, a little louder, a little harder. After another shake, his eyes crack open. He smiles up at me.  
“Morning, beautiful.”

My heart thuds in my chest, I am sure trying to make its escape into his hands. “It’s time to be going.”

Growling out a yawn, he stretches. His lean body on full display. He shifts his hips and I am captivated by his hard cock protruding from his waistband. I have to fight the urge to reach out and touch him. 

Tearing my eyes away, I begin gathering up my gear. I try not to look but my eyes continuously find their way back to him. He adjusts himself as he realizes he has been on display. I turn my back to him and ready myself for the day. When I face him again, he’s standing only inches away from me. 

“I think that was probably the best night’s sleep I’ve had in ages.” His smile is so sincere that I return it, but my nerves catch up with me and I look away from him.

“Let’s go,” I state curtly.

His smile falters. 

I push past him to the campfire. Varric hands me a mug of tea. 

“You two sleep well?” He grins at the two of us and it takes everything I have in me to not just walk away. 

I force myself to smile, “Quite well. You?” I bring the steaming mug to my lips and the warmth is more than welcome.

“Well, you know, I had Bianca. She’s really all I need to get me through the night.” He strokes the crossbow laying at his side.

“Your attachment to your weapon is disturbing, dwarf,” Fenris groans.

“What about you Blondie? Sleep well?” Varric’s waggles his eyebrows at Anders.

Obviously confused by the gesture, he looks between Varric and I. “Actually, yes. Maybe I should do more healing before going to bed. Usually, I have a bit of insomnia but right now I feel great.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“Uh-hu, healing. You stick with that Blondie,” Varric chuckles to himself and gathers up his pack.

Anders looks to me questioningly. I shrug and start gathering up my own pack.


	7. Deep Roads Camp Day 7, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke is frustrated with herself. She woke up with Anders in her arms. After all his rejections she should have known better. But, Maker, it felt so good to hold him, so right. Hawke decides it's probably best to keep her distance and in doing so draws the eye of another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT!!

Praise the Maker, we have finally made it to the Thaig. 

While the last few days have produced little darkspawn, the journey itself has been nothing but grueling. It seems the dwarves loved creating as many staircases as they possibly could. Nothing seemed to be one level for long. Up, down, up, down. Between the trek and the lack of activity, everyone is on edge. Tempers are flaring. Those not accustomed to long hikes are complaining, and everyone is exhausted.

I had to leave Fenris and Anders at one point. I couldn’t take it anymore, their constant back and forth. The group of mercenaries Meeran had sent was more than willing to have my company. Their flirty banter a welcome change from the tension in my own group. One of them, Tate, is even quite handsome. Laughing eased my tension and my heart. 

Since falling asleep with Anders, I can’t seem to even meet his gaze without blushing or becoming unnecessarily angry. I have avoided sleeping next to him for fear of a repeat of that night and I have made sure to avoid any conversation that would lead us to talk about Varric’s comment the next morning. 

The entry to the Thaig is large and, returning to my boys, we set up our tent just outside. Anders starts a fire but it’s quiet. The silence is uncomfortable so I decide to make my way to Bodahn. One of the Mercs told me I could pick up some extra necessities if I was willing to trade. I’m hoping to trade one of the blades I picked up along the way for an extra blanket and a clean tunic to sleep in. Mine has developed a slight funk since we’ve not come across any significant source of water for a few days. 

“Hello, Bodahn. Sandal.” I nod to them both and Sandal gives me an excited grin.

“‘Ello,” is all he says.

“Oh, Messere. Thank you again for saving my boy. I don’t know what I would have done if anything would have happened to him,” he reaches out, taking both of my hands in his and shaking them furiously. 

“No need to thank me. The boy is quite capable of taking care of himself.” I toss Sandal a grin. “The Mercs tell me you may have some extra tunics. Mind if I have a look?”

A concerned look crosses Bodahn’s face. “Ah, no, Messere. None that would fit you anyhow. You see, I wasn’t aware there would be a woman on this expedition,” He wrings his hands together and looks away. It’s easy to see, he wishes he had some way to help me.

“No worries. You happen to have a men’s tunic and an extra blanket?”

He smiles and rummages through his pack coming up with two tunics and a blanket.

“Perfect! How much do I owe you?” I pull out my coin purse but he holds up his hands.

“Oh, no. I couldn’t take your coin. Not after what you did for my Sandal. ” I can see it pains him to turn away the coin, so I stick with my original plan.

“Then take these. I found them while we were pillaging the darkspawn for health potions.” I set the blade and another extra dagger on his chest. 

Making my way back to the tent, I pass by the Mercs camp. I give Tate a wave and he smiles, casting his own hand up. He leans in and whispers to the man sitting next to him and they both look up at me. He grins and stands, making his way to me.

“Spreading nasty rumors about me, Tate,” I ask, hands on hips in mock annoyance.

“About you my lady?” He bows and the others snigger. “Never.”

I smack him on the head.

“See, I told you she was feisty,” this from one of the Mercs I had met only in passing.

“Careful, I’ve seen her use that blade there. I ain’t just for decoration,” another of the Mercs states.

I chuckle, “I always love going where my skills are appreciated.” 

He laughs and his companions follow suit. Standing he closes the distance between us to whisper in my ear, “I hear Bartrand has a few bottles of the good stuff that he plans on opening for us tonight. A reward for getting him through the Deep Roads safely. You should join us.”

I step back and am tempted to turn him down but knowing what is waiting for me at my own campsite I say, “I’ll think about it.” I wink at him and his smile grows. He makes his way back to the middle of his circle and I take in his massive build. So much different than either Anders or Fenris. His shoulders are wide and his muscles stretch the leathers to their max. When he faces me again, he winks. It sends a titillating shiver up my spine.

Returning to my group, I see the boys have given each other some space, Anders laying on his bedroll outside the tent, Fenris sharpening his blade and Varric spread out in the tent with ink and quill, no doubt recounting our journey thus far.

“Great news,” I announce to no one in particular, “I have obtained a clean tunic. I will not be smelling of death tonight.”

After eliciting zero response, I decide scouting the area couldn’t hurt.

Walking allows me to clear my head. Not that the air down here would be considered fresh by any means, but it is relaxing to be away from all of the noise, or lack thereof. 

It’s not long before I hear the welcome sound of running water. I explore a bit more, headed towards the sound. A glittering grotto, steaming water, a waterfall. A hot spring. Oh, Maker! I do not bother checking to see if anyone else is around. If anyone walks up on me, they are more likely to see the steam that rests on the surface of the water than my naked body. I quickly remove my armor.

The water is warm, tempered by the fresh water coming off of the waterfall. The warmth seeps into my skin, soothing my muscles and relaxing me. I slip under the surface and swim to the other side of the pool. A small ledge rests on the side allowing me to sit in the water comfortably. I lean my head back, stretching my arms along the ridge of the pool. If I’m not careful, I could fall asleep like this. Clearing my mind, I focus on the sounds around me, the bubbling water, the splash of the waterfall. I slip into a relaxed trance. No thought other than the pure pleasure of the heat and swirling water. I bid each of my muscles to loosen. I am unaware of how long I sit like this but I decide I should head back before someone comes looking for me. I slip back under and swim to the other side, taking my time and enjoying myself, doing flips in the water just to make myself laugh. When I surface, Tate stands at the edge of the pool. 

“Hello, Hawke.” His deep voice is filled with desire and I can’t help the smile that creeps across my lips. “Mind if I join you?”

I take in his large body, his full lips, and I can’t help but wonder what is under all that leather, once again. I push off of the side of the pool and slowly swim back to the ledge I was sitting on before he appeared. He takes that as the invitation it is. I watch as he peels away the layers of his Merc uniform. When he realizes my eyes are on him, he slows his movements, turning his undressing into a private strip show. 

Naked, he makes his way to the edge of the pool, dipping his hand in to test the water.

“You sure your companions won’t mind?” He lowers himself into the water. The look in his eyes tells me he doesn’t really care about my response so much as he wants to know if I am willing to cheat on whoever I may be with.

“I have no ties to the men with me other than friendship.” Something in the way he looks at me tells me he doesn’t believe me.

“A beautiful woman, surrounded by men and you have no ties to them other than friendship. That seems a little hard to believe. I mean, I can see why you would like any of the three of them. A warrior without equal amongst men who wouldn’t admit that to anyone else. A mage who can destroy most men with a gesture and a dwarf who could charm the pants off anyone he desired to. You keep interesting company, Hawke.” 

I find his assessments amusing, accurate but amusing. “Ha, I’m sure they would all love to hear your assessment of their abilities. They don’t receive much in the form of so much flattery.” 

He smiles, knowing he’s warmed himself to me with his admissions. 

“To answer your question, I am sure they would have objections. However, one is married to his weapon, one cannot bear the touch of another and…” I pause not knowing what to say about Anders, “Well, let’s just say the other has told me more than once that he has no interest in being with me.”

“Ahh, so he likes men.” His statement is so plainly thrown out that I have to laugh. This causes his smile to grow and he makes his way to me.

“Well, I won’t say he doesn’t like men. Of that, I am not sure myself, but that’s not what I meant. It’s just… It’s complicated.” I hear a shuffling off the side of the pool. I turn but Tate’s hand pulls my face back to him. 

“Then let me be simple. I want you, Hawke.” He leans in face inches from mine, awaiting a signal that I am willing. I close the distance and press my lips to his. His kiss is hungry, devouring. His hands find my waist and he anchors himself to me. I feel the press of his need against my mound. Slowly he rocks himself into me, stoking my desire. I wrap my arms around his neck but it causes us to slip. 

Tate pushes back from me. “Stand up.” His throaty demand ensures I will do as he says.

I lift my body out of the water, bare before him for the first time and he smiles. 

“You are so beautiful.” He pulls himself closer and asks me to sit on the edge of the pool. He anchors himself with his hands under each of my thighs, pulling his knees up onto the seat I just vacated. He lifts my legs, pressing his lips to the inside of each one. When his mouth finds my center, I can't help but moan in pleasure. His mouth now devouring me in a completely different way. Tongue sliding over my tender flesh as his fingers find my opening. He slides them in, hooking them at just the right angle to find my sweet spot, beginning a rhythmic motion, a dance of tongue and teeth, fingers and flesh. Bringing me to orgasm draws a growl of appreciation from his throat. 

He pulls away and pulls himself up to the edge of the pool beside me. He holds his hand out to me and I take it. He lifts me to my feet and walks me to the wall of the grotto. The stone wall is cold against my heated backside. His hands lift my breasts, thumbs circling my hardened nipples. He lowers his mouth and sucks in one nipple, then the other. His touch is so firm, so sure. This man knows exactly how to please a woman in every way. He begins a slow trail back to my lips, he tastes of my sex and it sends my body into a higher frenzy. Without breaking from the kiss, he lifts my leg and angles himself to penetrate me. He is wide and it takes a few tries before his shaft sinks deep within me, slow at first, coaxing my wetness around his length. When my body offers no more resistance, he quickens his pace. With each stroke, driving himself deeper within me. His teeth find my collarbone and his strokes become powerful, desperate. I feel him growing ever harder preparing for release. My nails dig into the flesh of his back. My moans echoing within the grotto. 

He loses his rhythm and I know he is about to cum. I focus on the sensations coursing through me and he takes my nipple into his mouth one last time, bringing on another orgasm from me and his final thrust and release.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I feel like Hawke is a woman who will take her pleasures where she can. She's been through so much that she wouldn't turn down an opportunity to find some sort of comfort. Especially since she's been rejected time and time again by the man she does care for.


	8. Anders' Dirty Little Secret, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders follows Hawke when he notices she won't be alone.

At first, I only thought Hawke was avoiding me. Now, I am certain of it. The last few days have been hard on all of us, but the last few nights… Maker. I can barely get her alone. She always finds some excuse to run off. The first night, she decided to talk to Bartrand. Why? That’s anyone’s guess. The next night, she wandered off with no explanation, only to appear as we were winding down for bed, creeping into the tent and making her way to her bedroll without a word to any of us. Now, she’s finding every excuse she can to wander off again. Maybe she is just tired of Fenris and me fighting. I know I am sick of it myself. Maybe she is mad at me, but no, that can’t be it. If she were mad at me she would tell me.

Varric begins shuffling through his pack. “Hey, Varric, can I ask you something?”

“What’s up, Blondie?” He turns to me and I try to decide how to word my question.

“Is there something up with Hawke? Does she seem a little standoffish lately, or is it just me?” My eyes beg him to say it isn’t just me but I can’t help feeling it is.

“Blondie, as far as I could tell, you guys were getting along quite well.” He stops rummaging through his pack and sits down beside me. “But what do I know about human women? Maybe you guys just started to move a little too quickly for her. You know she has been alone for the past two years. Saving her family from the Blight, joining up with the Red Iron, trying to get this expedition underway, it hasn’t allowed her much time to really pursue any kind of relationship.”

At my confused look he continues, “Don’t get me wrong. She takes her pleasures where she can, but never lets anyone too close.” He places a consoling hand on my shoulder.

I take in his words, but something about what he says doesn’t make sense. “What do you mean by moving too quickly? Is it because I saw her nearly naked? Fenris saw more of her than I did.”

“Ha! If you haven’t noticed, our girl is not the modest, blushing maiden. I don’t know, Blondie. Maybe the healing thing got under her skin, or maybe it was that night. Not that I think you would be a bad lover, I’m just saying maybe it was too fast for her.” He stands and returns to pulling supplies out of his pack.

“A bad lover? Do you think we slept together?” I now know I have missed something big and Varric is skirting around telling me exactly what it is, my frustration evident in my voice.

He holds his hands up in placation. “Hey, I don’t know for certain that’s what happened. All I know is the next morning, you two were cozy as kittens, all tangled up in each other. Truly, it was hard to tell who was who under the blankets. I just assumed she may have shown just how much she appreciated what you did for her.”

“Tangled together? What do you mean?” I stand and begin pacing; trying to absorb what Varric is telling me.

“Oh, it was adorable really. Her face all snuggled into your shoulder, arms wrapped around one another, legs intertwined. Honestly, it looked as though you two had quite the night.” 

My pacing continues. Varric gathers up his writing materials and heads into the tent. I let him be. He has told me the one thing I needed to know. What I don’t understand is why Hawke wouldn’t just talk to me about it. I would expect her to poke fun at the situation rather than storming off and ignoring me. This is so unlike her.

I need to calm myself before she returns. Opening the tent flap I reach in and grab my bedroll. Rolling it back up, I fashion a makeshift pillow so I can lay out by the fire. I catch a glimpse of Hawke making her way back to camp, but she stops to speak with the Mercs she’s made friends with over the past few days. Whatever she says has the men laughing. One bows to her and she gives him a playful smack on the head. This is the one who made jokes and innuendos towards her the day before. Of course, she never seemed to mind, tossing her own playful jokes right back. It is frustrating to watch, so I close my eyes and lay my head back. I need to clear my head before she returns. I can’t be this wound up. She will sense it and not want to talk to me.

As her footfall nears the camp, I wrack my brain for the right way to broach the subject but I am coming up with nothing. Our usual playful banter seems inappropriate but if I try to have a serious conversation with her, I’m afraid she’ll just shut me down.

Her jovial tone when she announces that she will not smell like death tonight does nothing to help me figure this situation out and I, along with Fenris and Varric ignore her. Realizing her attempt to lighten the mood fell on deaf ears, she sighs and leaves the camp again. This time she heads off to the unexplored parts of the cavern. Sensing no darkspawn in that direction, I am content to let her wander while I muddle through my thoughts. I don’t doubt, armed as she is, that she can take down anything else that may come her way. 

I ponder the events of that morning. Were we really wrapped up in each other’s arms? That would explain why I slept so well. Why don’t I remember it? I try to remember what happened that night. I remember the massage and my head in her lap. I remember her gentle kiss on my forehead. I remember her restless fidgeting beside me as I fell asleep but in none of this do I remember curling my body around hers. Going back to that morning I try to recall if she gave any indication that she knew we had fallen asleep wrapped around one another. She had shaken me out of one of the best nights of sleep I had had in awhile. I remember finding it odd that, as we were getting dressed, she refused to look at me. At the time I was grateful, as I was in a state of full arousal. Then I recall her nervous laughter and Fenris’s undue anger as Varric inquired as to how we had both slept. Still, it seems so unlike her to not just laugh it off or make a joke about it. 

Footsteps again approach the camp, and thinking them to be Hawke, I sit up and turn to look for her but realize they are coming from the wrong direction. Turning my head, I see the Merc Hawke has been flirting with headed in the same direction she left in only a few moments ago. 

Shit.

Telling myself I am following him to protect her, I grab my staff. I try to stay out of sight, ducking behind outcroppings and statues, when I feel necessary.

Soon I hear the sound of bubbling water and someone splashing around in it. She must have found a spring. 

Coming around to the other side of the statue I have been using for cover, I see the bubbling spring tucked away in a small grotto. I quietly inch closer, ensuring I have a good view and that I can hear anything that may be said. If he tries anything while she is vulnerable, I will be here to stop him. 

Just as I get into a good position her head crests the surface of the water. The red war paint has washed away and she is a sight to behold. Her black hair is slicked back revealing her striking blue eyes. Her bare neck just begging to be caressed. Her pouty lips open in a slight “o” at being found in such a vulnerable state. Her milky white skin glistens in the lantern light but the rest of her body remains hidden beneath the steam that floats along the top of the water.

“Hello, Hawke.” The sheer lust in his voice sets my nerves on edge.

She doesn't respond but for a slow smirk.

“Mind if I join you?” Again, she doesn't respond but languidly swims to the other side of the pool. She sits on what must be a natural ledge because her arms come down to her sides as she anchors herself in place.

The Merc undresses, at first his movements are quick and eager but when he realizes Hawke is watching him, his movements slow. It's as if he is now putting on a show for her. He grips his belt and slowly slides it through the loops. He grins when she bites her lip and her eyes go to his crotch.

I know I should leave but I can't seem to make myself move. It is clear that she wants this man. I have no business stopping them, as much as I wish to. My confliction keeps me rooted.

Clothes removed he slips into the water. Slowly he makes his way to her, a hunter stalking his prey. Little does he know, she is the hunter. 

 

“You sure your companions won’t mind?” I look to her, hoping this is what she needs to turn him away. She pauses, head lowered. 

“I have no ties to the men with me other than friendship.” Maker. Her words stab through my chest like a dagger to the heart. I know I have turned her away every time she's come to me but it doesn't change the burning desire I feel at the very sight of her. I want her but I couldn't live with myself if I hurt her. This war that is coming, I will be in the center of it and I just cannot put her there with me.

“A beautiful woman, surrounded by men,” He inches ever closer. If he were to reach out he could touch her. “And you have no ties to them other than friendship?” She gazes back up at him again and when their eyes meet, I can plainly see the desire burning beneath the surface. “That seems a little hard to believe.” At her raised eyebrow, he continues, “A warrior without equal, amongst men who wouldn’t dare admit that to anyone else. A mage who can destroy most men with a gesture and a dwarf who could charm the pants off anyone he desired to. You keep interesting company, Hawke.” Well at least he knows where he stands should this go south.

“Ha, I’m sure they would all love to hear your assessment of their abilities. They don’t receive much in the form of so much flattery.” She turns away, yet again, and I can see the conflict in her eyes but it is short lived.

“To answer your question, I am sure they would have objections. However, one is married to his weapon, one cannot bear the touch of another and…” She pauses, and for a moment I am hopeful, “Well, let’s just say the other has told me more than once that he has no interest in being with me.”

Maker, is that what she thinks?

“Ahh, so he likes men.” Well, that is presumptuous of him.

Hawke lets out a throaty chuckle, “Well, I won’t say he doesn’t like men. Of that I am not sure myself but that’s not what I meant. It’s just… It’s complicated.” 

I find myself leaning forward wanting her to say more and my hand slips. Her head turns towards me and I know I am about to be found out. I catch my balance and ensure I am out of sight. 

“Then let me be simple. I want you, Hawke.” 

I lean forward again just far enough to see and his face is inches from hers, waiting for her to make the first move. She closes the distance and presses her lips to his. His kiss is hungry, devouring. His hands dip below the water and he pulls himself into her. She moans and my throat goes tight. I'm finding it difficult to even swallow. Slowly he rocks himself into her. Her head lolls back in pleasure and her eyes close. She wraps her arms around his neck but it causes them to slip. He pushes back from her, trying to regain his hold before they both go under. 

“Stand up.” At his throaty demand she wastes no time in complying.

My eyes are riveted to her naked body. Her high round breasts, nipples hard and ready for someone's touch, her slim waist and rounded hips all on display and I feel a growing response in my own body. He guides her into a sitting position and buries his face between her legs. Sweet Maker. I close my eyes and try to calm my body but I can hear her moans of pleasure from only a few feet away. 

Looking back to the scene unfolding before me, I see that he has slipped his fingers inside of her, sliding them in and out with slow sure strokes. I can't take it anymore. Reaching into my pants, I grip my cock. Over and over, I tell myself this is wrong but I can't take my eyes off of her and my body is demanding I do something about it. They exit the pool and he shoves her against the wall. Oh, how I wish it were my body pressed against hers and not some random Merc but I'm the one who pushed her away. He shoves his cock inside her and I imagine the look of ecstasy is my doing. I am on the brink of orgasm when Hawke let's out a scream so familiar I freeze. 

It was her.


	9. Deep Roads Camp Day 7, Part 2

Being able to rid myself of my sexual frustrations has greatly improved my mood. While it may not have been the man I was hoping for, the pressure is gone and maybe I can move past the awkwardness with Anders. I left Tate at the spring, telling him I didn’t wish to enter the camp with him at my side. He understood. 

“Hawke, where’d you run off to,” Varric questions as he exits the tent. 

I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face, “I found a nice hot spring,” I shake my wet hair in his face and we both laugh, “It’s tucked away in a little grotto not far from here. I was not about to pass up the chance to bathe first this time.”

He chuckles, remembering our first day and my semi-irrational fit. It’s good to hear him laugh. With tensions growing within our little group, it has been far too long.

“Where are the others?” I begin scanning the camp, trying to catch sight of either Anders or Fenris, but they don’t seem to be hanging around anywhere nearby.

“No clue.” He shrugs.

“Hmmm, well, I don’t suppose you know what’s for dinner? But if you say stew, I might have to punch you.” 

He lets go another chuckle. The stew we had our first night has been stretched and remade for the past week.

“Ha, not tonight. Bartrand has brought out a feast. The reward for finding the Thaig. He’s had it planned all along.” He rolls up the parchment he’d been writing on and tucks it into his bag. 

“Thank the Maker,” I sigh, leaning down and placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Oh, Sweet Andraste, Hawke! I didn’t make the food.” He rubs the spot where I kissed him and scowls at me.

“Are you telling me I should have reserved that kiss for Bartrand?” 

Another scowl.

“He can be quite forceful. I do like that in a man.” We both laugh and I head off in search of the food Varric promised.

He wasn’t joking. There is a makeshift table loaded with roasted meat, cheeses, grapes, apples and campfire bread. I begin loading up a plate. I pile enough meat and cheese to make several sandwiches and some of the fruit. When I look up from all of the glorious food I see Anders approaching, 

“Hey Blondie,” I say jokingly, “Check it out. Someone must have informed Bartrand of my appetite. There might be enough left for you when I am done.” I smile but he does not return it. I approach him and reach out to place my hand on his shoulder but he turns to grab a plate before I reach him.

“Hey, listen, I’m sorry. These last few days have been hard on all of us. I know I’ve been in my own head and have shut you guys out. That was unkind of me. I invited you and Fenris along. I shouldn’t have let my own hang-ups get in the way of our friendship.” 

He makes no comment and I can’t help but be grateful. The last thing I need is him asking me what is on my mind.

I approach him again and this time he allows me to place my hand on the small of his back. “Why don’t we take our feast over to camp and we can talk.”

“Hawke, you don’t have to do that.” 

He doesn't pull away, but I get the sense that my touch is unwelcome. I drop my hand back to my side.

“Anders,” saying his name brings his eyes to mine and I see hurt laced with doubt. It confuses me. 

“Are you alright,” I ask and he turns away from me, “Did I do something?”

Just as I am about to follow Anders, Tate appears at my side. He takes my elbow and whispers into my ear, “Your wet, porcelain skin was a sight to behold.” 

I can’t help the blush that creeps into my cheeks. “Let’s not discuss this here.”

“Does that mean you will be joining my crew for drinks later? We can discuss it then.” His smile is warm, genuine. 

Sweet Maker.

“Listen, Tate,” I start but he quickly cuts me off.

“Later. I understand.” He turns on his heel, a slight skip to his step.

What have you done now, Hawke?

 

The campfire is warm, the food delicious and the promised wine has my head abuzz. Yet, the tensions in our group have not lessened. I tried my best at jovial companionship. I tried being angry. I even tried being indifferent to it all, but in the end, I am simply exhausted. With a full belly and a fresh tunic, I make my way into the tent. I do not bother excusing myself, as there seems no need. I eye the bedrolls. Fenris and Varric’s lay alongside mine, with Anders at the head where our gear usually lays. This gives us ample room to move about in our sleep. 

Well, this layout would have been helpful earlier.

Not that we could have made it work in the close quarters of that night, but it makes me wish I would have thought to do something, anything to avoid the near-hostility our group is in now.

With this new set-up, our gear will need to be placed outside. I release the straps holding me in my breastplate and lift it over my head. I allow it to fall to the floor. The clang echoes off the cavern walls. 

The noise has Anders poking his head through the tent flap. “Is everything alright,” he questions, concern clear in his eyes.

“Oh, I’m fine.” I nearly growl.

“Oh…” He turns to walk away but my voice calls him back.

“Anders, can we talk?” I can see he is about to turn away again, so I reach for his arm, adding, “Please.”

He takes in my hand on his arm for a moment before nodding and stepping into the tent with me. I continue to remove my armor while I speak. “Listen, I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you for a few days, but I need you to know…” I pause, uncertain how to phrase what it is I need to tell him.

“Look if this is about the Merc, save it. I heard what he said.”

I blush, and my mouth falls open in surprise. “Umm… No, it’s not that.”

He crosses his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow.

“I… Uhh… The reason I have been avoiding you is that… Well… The other night when we were in cramped quarters, I had Fenris breathing down my neck and I tried moving away but that put me flush against your body.” I can see I have his interest now so I continue. “I scooted as far away from him and as close to you as I could get without touching you, but I quickly became very uncomfortable. I couldn’t sleep. My hip was digging into the ground, my arm falling asleep, so I decided…” Again I pause, not knowing how to finish but he gestures for me to continue. “I wrapped my arm around you and snuggled into your shoulder.” I blurt.

He stands there for a moment analyzing me and I find it more than a little unsettling.

“I know,” he states plainly.

Taken aback, I can’t help the screeching “What?” that escapes my lips.

He smiles then. “Varric told me.”

Before another screech comes, I take a deep breath. “What do you mean Varric told you?”

“Just what I said.”

He doesn’t elaborate, so I ask, “What exactly did he say?”

“He told me that when he woke, he found us tangled together in each other’s arms. In fact, I think he even said we were adorable.” He grins and it causes my stomach to do a somersault. 

“Oh…” I fumble with the last of my armor, doing everything I can to not look at him.

“Hawke.” He walks up to me then, placing his palm on the small of my back. “Why did this have you avoiding me? I would think it would be something for us to laugh at, to bicker about, not something that would have you running from me.”

His warmth seeps through me at just the small touch. I can feel it settling my overworked nerves. I know it’s his magic at work but I would like to think it is also my body’s natural reaction to his proximity. “Anders, I know how you feel about me. You've made it very clear. When I woke up next to you, I felt so comfortable… So safe. It felt so right that, for just a moment, I wished it wouldn't end.” 

He moves closer, stance mimicking mine, but I pull away. I want his touch, his comfort but knowing he doesn’t feel the same breaks my heart.

“Please, Hawke. I don't want you to think that. The first part, anyway. The rest… Well…” His hands fall on my shoulders.

Again my tension releases. I turn to him, causing his hands to slip from my body. “Tell me then, to my face, that you haven't turned down every advance I've made in the last few months. Tell me that you haven't already told me we can't be together.” I inch closer to him with every word, until our chests touch and he is either forced to stand there and hold his ground or take this as another opportunity to walk away. “Tell me that you want nothing more than to kiss me right now.”

His lips press into mine as he takes my face into his palms. His breath tickles my skin as he moans, deep and guttural. With one hand he takes my hip, pulling me into his body.

“Do you believe I want you now?”

The evidence of his arousal is pressed against my thigh. I pull his head to mine needing to taste him again. My fingers tangle in his golden hair. After each kiss, he sighs and the sound ignites a desire deep within me. His fingers find the hem of my tunic. They brush across my belly, around to my back, in feather-soft strokes. As his hands reach my back he pulls, digging his fingers into my muscles and moving up my spine.

“Have you two finished kissing and making up yet?” Varric’s voice calls from outside the tent.

We pull away, both smiling and decide now is not the time. We are about to exit the tent when I make a last minute decision. I pull Anders’ bedroll back alongside mine. When I turn back to him he smiles and takes my hand leading me out of the tent.

**Author's Note:**

> Much more to come!!


End file.
